Alone I walked on an Idle day
In the inside lane of Triplicane
Alas! I saw a depleted Roof of a hut in shambles
Where this Great Man of our Times Once Lived!

In poverty for which Bharathi became the Definition;
In Patriotism for which
He set the Standards that were to be followed for ever!
In Poetry of Pure Tamil, never ever since surpassed!

Whenever I read his Definition of Kannan(Krishna)
I drew Courage to fight all the evils on earth!
Kanna was his servant and shepherd
Savior and server too!

Redder and thicker
His blood was boiling
Ever every inch That he dreamt
Freedom for his soil, which gave his poverty Free!

Russia or Belgium it might be
His pen was mighty
That bore his Authority
On Freedom and Dignity that every Indian denied at that time!

Simple in Tamil
Stylish in Command
Worth its weight in Gold
He held his Poetry in Store!

Decades gone by
In vain efforts to passify
This soul of Immense Grudge
Against a Land so Ungrateful till his very End!

As I walk back
In the narrow Lane of Triplicane!
I shed Tears I Borrowed
From my neighbour I stored
As I forgot him once I crossed this lane!